[Takes the Gown, and puts it on.
Tayl. O dear Gentlemen, I shall be quite undone, if you take the Gown.
Sir John. Retire, Sirrah; and since you carry off your Skin—go home and be happy.
Tayl. [Pausing.] I think I had e'en as good follow the Gentleman's friendly Advice; for if I dispute any longer, who knows but the Whim may take him to case me? These Courtiers are fuller of Tricks than they are of Money; they'll sooner cut a Man's Throat, than pay his Bill.
[Exit Taylor.
Sir John. So, how do you like my Shapes now?
Lord Rake. This will do to a Miracle; he looks like a Bishop going to the Holy War. But to your Arms, Gentlemen, the Enemy appears.
Enter Constable and Watch.
Watch. Stand! Who goes there? Come before the Constable.